Body and Soul
by sophiesix
Summary: While Blackheath and Alex try to find a way to save Dorsey, Jackson and Jai team up to hunt them down. Follows 'Shattered'
1. Chapter 1

**Body and Soul**

_While Blackheath and Alex try to find a way to save Dorsey, Jackson and Jai team up to hunt them down. Follows Shattered_

* * *

Blackheath saw the whole thing through binoculars.

The snipers had done their job beautifully, firing at Ally's signal and disappearing before the Souls had hit the ground. Ally had looked so proud with a job meticulously planned, executed like clockwork. But her satisfaction turned to horror as she watched, a lone silhouette on the rooftop, while the crowd beneath turned into a mob, panicking, trampling each other beneath pitiless feet. She saw her mother go down, like she was drowning beneath them. She saw Alex, Yash on his shoulders, trying to fight through the crowds towards her, being swept away from her by the current of people. Finally the silhouette on the rooftop disappeared like a ghost.

Alex had got there first, pulling Yash down and kneeling beside Dorsey as the crowd thinned, leaving broken people like shipwrecks in the wake of a tidal wave. Ally got there next, standing as uselessly as Yash, watching him do CPR until he shouted at her to get a Healer. Blackheath never got there. He saw Ally turn and run at the same time as the Seeker sirens burst into the square in front of him. Then he disappeared.

He had to.

He had to get Ally safely away. He would have to trust Alex to look after Dorsey. He hated it, but he had to. But Alex had done the right thing, got her treatment, kept her alive, and now had her transferred to the new Zone Clinic. As soon as it was safe, Blackheath had come. His anger had boiled dry by then. Dorsey had promised him she wouldn't go to the peace day celebrations. But she had laughed as she had promised.

"They won't do anything," she'd teased him, "you'd tell me if they were."

_I'm telling you now_, he'd thought, making her promise. But she had misunderstood. And she had almost died as a result of his actions. He didn't even know how badly she'd been hurt.

Blackheath ran inside the hospital room as soon as he got there. Just let anyone try and stop him. Dorsey lifted her head to smile at him and he stopped as if he'd run into a glass wall, then jumped onto the bed, one hand shaking her shoulder, the other pressing a knife to her throat.

"Get the fuck out of her!" he screamed.

Alex was on him in an instant, arm twined inside his elbow so he couldn't cut her, peeling his hand off her, pulling him back, holding him away.

"She's finding her. Like Flame with me. It's only temporary. Leave her alone," he said into his ear, as calmly as he could. But that silver felt to Blackheath like mercury poisoning her eyes, and Alex had had to shake him before he understood. When the tension in his muscles finally started to ease away a little Alex dumped him in a chair and went to the Soul, who's eyes were perilously close to rolling over backwards.

"It's alright, you're ok," Alex said, holding her gently, stroking her head, "He's gone, he's not going to hurt you."

Blackheath realized in sudden dread that if he had scared her too much, she might just go, and take Dorsey with her. He sat perfectly still, not daring to breathe.

Slowly, the Soul came back. Blackheath had never been so happy to see silver eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Maddy was dead. The thought went round and round in Jai's head like a dodgem car doing donuts . And even though she had tried to save her, Jai couldn't help but feel she hadn't done enough. She wasn't exiled. She could have followed her, warned her about Chet, delivered the message herself. But it would have been useless anyway. No one fought against Chet and won.

Part of her was numb inside, had been since she'd heard, and had stayed numb when the Seekers raided the camp, arrested her and all the others, took her into the city, got the Healers to check her, and put her in a cell, alone. Alone, she felt, was ominous. They couldn't have enough cells to house everyone alone. Special treatment was never a good sign. She let the numbness grow so she wouldn't care.

But surprise cut through the numbness when she saw Jackson enter the interview room. He was not surprised to see her, and smiled casually. Like he was God and had destined this meeting to occur. It was not far off the truth.

"Nut Brown, we meet again," he said, sitting down opposite. She saw now that he was a Seeker, a _human _Seeker, and it began to make sense; what he was doing out there, his questions... He had ratted them out then. Well, with her help. Her heart beat loud at the shock of it, seeing him again, seeing him like this. She felt a distance between them so unlike that night when she had sat by him. Now they were separated by so many things. Most importantly, that she was a criminal, and he was a Seeker. An unbridgeable gap.

"You smell better this time," she said, sharp and snappy as a street kid. Playing her part.

"Why, thank you," he replied, and his eyes were warm, amused, like they were pleased to see her. He was not playing his part. He was not treating her like the enemy, not really. But he was a Seeker; maybe it was a trick.

She was tired of tricks. "What do you want."

"I'd like you to tell me what you were doing three days ago."

"Peace day."

"Exactly."

She sat in silence, puzzled. Everything was organized_ before_ peace day. Nothing had happened on the actual day. What was the point of asking that?

"Nothing then," Jackson said, prompting her.

"Pretty much."

"You stayed in the camp."

"Yeah."

"You didn't go to the cities."

"No."

"Any city."

"No."

"So you weren't involved in the detonation of the explosive device over North Head, or the sniper attacks in Griffin Square?"

"No..."

"And there are witnesses for this?"

"Of course."

"Excellent." He made some notes and looked up, smiling again. "If you're story is corroborated, you will be free to go, pending further evidence."

She stared at him. Free to go? She was one of Sanderson's. No way was she free to go. _Pending further evidence. _She saw their game now. She would be free for a few days, _then _herded back into cold storage. It was deliciously cruel.

But when he came to get her later (she didn't know how much later, as there were no windows in the cells), he walked her to his car and opened the door to the front seat, like an equal. She hesitated, and he waited.

"Maddy's dead," she said suddenly. She'd never said it aloud before, and it felt strange on her tongue.

"I know. I'm sorry." His voice, though guarded, actually sounded sincere. She frowned, though her gaze caught on nothing. He was sorry. A thought floated around in her head: no one was ever sorry when she hurt. That was just part of life.

"I tried," he added softly.

And she looked up at him and noticed for the first time the traces of heal scars on his face and arms. He saw her looking and looked away.

"How close did you get?" she whispered.

"Not close enough, I guess," he replied. She thought this was a strange thing to say. But he was a strange guy. An intriguing one. "I'm sorry."

Jai was sorry as well. Maddy had been full of life, once. And now she was dead. Jai felt the numbness begin to sweat, to thaw, as she realized: they had lived.

"That's alright," she said finally. Maddy had been dying for a long time, inside. It seemed right, somehow, that she got to choose to go, in the end. That she could finally be free of Chet. Really free.

They sat in silence as he drove, and she stared out the window, feeling herself come alive again the further from Seeker headquarters they got. She was alive. It was a marvelous thought, really. A lot of things were alive. She watched kids playing in their yards, neighbours chatting over fences, mums dragging screaming toddlers home from the shops, and felt like she'd gone back in time. To before the Invasion. Just like you saw in the old books. Only the glint of silver eyes were everywhere. That was unsettling.

Jackson pulled up in front of an apartment building, the good kind where the ground floor apartments had their own patch of garden in front. She waited.

"I am to take you to your hotel," he started, then paused. A bare motel room was singularly unattractive, even if only for three days. Perhaps especially for these particular three days, she thought.

"This isn't a hotel."

"No, it's my apartment. They've got a sham you going to your hotel first, see if anyone tries to contact you. They'll call me if nothing happens."

She waited some more.

"So…"

"So I was going to offer you some coffee. Repay your hospitality."

Scungey hail water for coffee, she thought. Hardly a fair swap.

"… But I guess that was a dumb idea," he finished.

There were flowers in his garden. She wondered if he'd planted them himself.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what."

"Aren't you going to ask me?"

He got out and opened her door, and she walked as straight as a queen to the apartment building, and waited at the front door like a prisoner for him to open it. He obliged, and she fell to the ground inside his apartment.

"Carpet!" she crooned, pressing her cheek to it just inside the door. "Real carpet!" So soft, so clean…

"No carpet in the Zone huh?" he said, sitting next to her after a moment.

"I haven't seen it since I was a kid…" she rubbed her cheek on it as if it was velvet. He shook his head, smiling and when he came back with coffee, she was still sprawled on the floor, poking her fingers between the fibres with a look of blissful contentment.

"You sure are easy to please," he murmured.

She watched him drink his coffee, and remembered. _In another three days, I'll never see carpet again. Or anything_. She had decided three days was how long it would take for them to find more evidence. The last three days of her life. The thought made her slightly giddy. She had only just started to feel alive again. And she liked Jackson. Pity he was a Seeker and she was a criminal. Another time, another place, she wouldn't have liked to see if it went anywhere. But now there was no time.

She sat up as he drained his cup, folding her bare legs beneath her.

"You want more milk or something?" he asked, noticing her untouched cup. She studied him. He'd _really _asked her here for coffee? But there was something else in his eyes, that he hid by looking away. And then she decided three days was plenty of time. More than enough, if you played your cards right. He met her eyes in the silence, and she knew he wanted more than coffee. She shifted closer and put her hands on his thighs, leaning into his face and kissing him, tasting him.

"No, it tastes fine," she said, feeling his thighs relax open a little to accommodate the pressure. His hand was rising slowly and she caught it, kissing it, then cupping it to her chest and holding it there, pressing herself against him, while her other hand caressed the inside of his thigh. But he did nothing, watching her almost in surprise, just letting her.

"Haven't you done this before?" she teased, and he ripped her fly open so hard it tore. He paused, surprised by his own violence, but she had already pulled off her top and was working on his. He pulled it off himself and pushed her into the carpet, kissing a trail down her belly and pulling off her broken shorts as he went. The idea of staying with Jackson was becoming very attractive indeed.

***

The ring of his mobile broke insistently through, and he answered it automatically, pulling off her.

"Motel's clear, you right to bring her in?"

_Seekers,_ he thought, focusing_. Right. There was another agenda here_.

"Ah, you guys head off. We've had a unplanned stop here. She wanted new clothes. I'll be there later." He wondered if any of the Soul Seekers had had unplanned stops with their charges. He very much doubted it. Then he felt her resume their previous activities and had to concentrate hard on not biting his tongue off.

"Roger that. See you tomorrow then."

"Yeah see you," he muttered with difficultly, hanging up with relief and pulling her shoulder sharply away from him, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Returning the favour," she replied silkily, twisting her shoulder out of his grip and getting back to business.

"You do need new clothes," he said, once he could talk again, "I think I stuffed these up pretty good."

He detected moodiness in her silence, but she got up and found the shower, and he lay back in relief.

She showered lengthily, and came out wearing another pair of his pants and her tank top, his belt just holding them up, his cuffs covering her feet, and he couldn't get his eyes off her butt in the tailored material.

"They're mine," was all that came out of his mouth.

"Come and get them then," she answered mildly, and he turned away from the bait, reaching for his clothes and car keys.

"Come and I'll get you new ones," he said.

"But the shops will be closed."

"Nup." Why was he getting the feeling she didn't want to go to the motel? But that was crazy. What would she want here? She'd already got anything she could possibly want from him.

She followed him back to the car and he drove her to the big department store, just for kicks, just to see her reaction. Her feet faltered and her eyes widened at the sheer volume of stuff. It was a far cry from a Zone store. She walked around in a daze for a while, then seemed to focus, grabbing some clothes and heading for the change room. And though she modeled them for him beautifully, when she came out the last time, she was still in his pants and her grimy tank top. When he pointed this out she protested.

"I can't wear any of these out of the store, they'll think I'm stealing!"

He looked at her in amusement, and her spine stiffened, realizing her error too late and stalking off to the car, shoving him the neatly folded clothes on the way. He registered their selection and followed her, trying to wipe the amusement off his face.

"What about dinner?" he said appeasingly, driving. He was realizing her didn't want her to go just yet either, and was searching for things to offer her. _Like a bloody bower bird_, he thought sourly.

"Don't you think you're going about this a bit backwards? Usually you ask a girl out to dinner _first_."

_Like a stupid bower bird, then._

"So you're not hungry then?" he asked, hiding his disappointment fairly well.

"Starving. But nothing will be open."

"No problem."

He drove back to the apartment and cooked her up a quick laksa, fragrant with lemon grass and chilli.

"Hey," he said sharply, collecting the bowls as she leaned back and cupped her belly in a satisfied way, "you're still wearing my pants." She smiled and made no move to take them off. "I need to wear them for work tomorrow." Still she didn't move. "Come on, I got you new ones." She looked at him reproachfully.

"You really love your job, don't you," she said. He had the feeling this was going to be the longest car ride home in history. But she got up and grabbed a new pair, coming out of the bathroom in them and giving him back the ones she'd held hostage. He stood in the middle of the room holding them, knowing he should take her back now, and she stood likewise, neither prepared to look each in the eye, nor make the first move.

"What if I don't want to go to the motel," she asked quietly.

"Oh, well, we can find you some place else I suppose…" he replied, but this didn't seem to be the answer she was looking for, "It's up to you."

"What if I want to stay here."

"With me." He had to check it wasn't just the carpet.

"With you."

"Well," he said, thinking he should have put the pants back by now, and wondering why he was still holding them. But he didn't put them down. "Well, I guess that could be arranged."

Her smile was beautiful, and he couldn't resist kissing it. And then kissing it some more. And before he knew it they were on the floor again, and his phone was cutting through his hearing like a fire alarm. He answered it more irritably than he meant to, apologized a few times and hung up.

"The motel," he said, "Worried about you."

"Oh."

"Wondering why you hadn't turned up."

"Oh."

"Wondering if you'd found alternative accommodation."

Slowly, they grinned at other, realizing she had.

"Maybe we could even make it to the bed this time?" he ventured.

"I thought you liked sleeping alone," she teased.

"Now when did I ever say that?" he asked, mystified.

She smiled and didn't even think about arguing.

***

The three days passed before she knew it. Then right on cue, just before Jackson was due to come home from work, a news report on a new wave of human arrests. _This was it then_, Jai thought, _time's up_, and opened the kitchen drawer. But he came home earlier than she thought he would.

He walked in and she flashed a glazed stare at him, like a rabbit just before you run it over. _Early_, she thought, _because he's coming to arrest me personally_. Then he saw the knife raise in her hands, the blood leaking down her elbow, and he ran for her, trying to wrestle it out of her grip. But she was faster, and desperate, and jabbed at him, startled. He sank to his knees, with a grunt, holding the knife still in his shoulder, seeing the long cuts along her wrists spilling out blood like gravy from a never ending pitcher. She backed into a corner, slid to the floor, her eyes locked all the while on the knife in his shoulder, struck dumb with horror.

"I'm sorry," she said faintly, while he grabbed the tea towels and wrapped them tightly around her wrists, holding them in one hand above her head. "I'm so sorry." He dialed the Healers awkwardly with his other hand, trying not to move his shoulder. The necessity of holding her wrists above her head kept them close, and they couldn't avoid each other's eyes. He felt like he could see her dying right in front of him, but that she was struggling, struggling to hold on. It was only when she passed out that the gaze was broken.

***

He was washing the blood off his arm in the Healing Centre bathroom when he began to lose it. What the hell did he think he was doing with this kid? He knew nothing about her. Other than she wanted to be with him. Until today. She could be a stark raving loony. She could be a serial killer. But he didn't think a serial killer would apologise after stabbing you. He filled his hands with water and drowned his face. All he knew was he didn't want to lose her. Maybe he was the crazy one.

She was conscious again when he went back to her room, the bags of blood still dripping into her arms. Her eyes were a strange mix of happy and sad. Happy to see him, he supposed, and sad to still be alive.

"You didn't get in trouble for keeping me?" she asked. He found it strange the way she referred to herself like she was a piece of furniture, or a library book.

"No," he replied, coming into the room and sitting down in the chair by her head. Surprisingly not. He'd told them she hadn't wanted to stay in the motel, so she'd stayed with him, and no one had even raised an eyebrow. Problem solved. Maybe they all had humans staying with them, he thought.

"How's your shoulder?"

"It's fine," he said, brushing away her concern. Stab wounds to non core areas were easily fixed. "Are you going to tell me why you did it?"

"I didn't mean to. It's just you ran at me and-"

"No, you idiot. Why you tried to kill yourself."

"You were going to put me in cold storage. I saw it on the news."

He waited for it to make sense. It didn't. "What?"

"They were arresting the humans again. I knew my time was up. I knew they wouldn't really let us go. I figured it would be three days, actually. I should've placed a bet somewhere."

He was quiet for a long time then leaned back and his face was hard.

"So that's why you went with me. You thought you were about to die. Knew it had to be something."

"Stop," she said, grabbing his shirt, and if her eyes had been daggers they would have cut him again. "Stop it." But each way she tried to explain it in her head it came out wrong. "I just didn't want to die, without, _trying_…"

"So now you've _tried_. Now what."

"Don't be an arse." She let go of his shirt and smoothed it sadly. "You arrest me, and I get stored."

He leaned right up close so she couldn't see anything else.

"I'm not going to arrest you," he said slowly.

"Alright, you get one of your mates to arrest me," she frowned, like she didn't want to deal with another Seeker. Like she liked her Seeker.

"No one is going to fucking arrest you. No one is going to fucking store you. There's nothing to prove you did anything. Ever."

She gazed into his eyes, wanting to believe.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

***

They let her out of hospital within days, assured it was a one-off event. Jackson had wanted to go with accident, but she knew they wouldn't buy that. Temporary insanity fit the evidence better. And she made sure to be bright and cheerful, and not too bright and cheerful, until they let her out. She was pleased to note he didn't asked where she wanted to go, but took her back to his place. And she led him contentedly straight to bed.

"I'd thought you'd be sick of beds by now," he said, letting her pull him down.

"Mmm, I have some catching up to do with this one," She pulled his shirt off one shoulder, then the other, lick-kissing each patch of skin as she bared it. "Unless you'd prefer someplace else?"

"Here's fine," he breathed, reaching for her.

When she was satisfactorily caught up, he could satisfy himself on a few matters.

"So you're done with that storage bull shit?" he asked, watching her carefully.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, eyes closed, "Anyhow they can't take me now. Not with my big tough Seeker to guard me." She opened her eyes slightly and wrote her name across his chest with her finger, like signing a book, but he got up and went into the study.

"What?" she asked, following him, pulling on his shirt.

"Look, he said, grabbing a pile of photos out of a drawer and throwing down a selection. She looked over his shoulder, studying the spread.

"These are the people we want to arrest. Note how none of them is Nut Brown."

He picked up a photo.

"This one in particular," he muttered.

"Blackheath," she said easily.

"You know him?"

"Of course. He's a legend."

"That's one way of putting it. He's a slippery sucker."

She took the photo and studied it, thinking. "I know how you can get him."

He looked at her, like he was not amused.

"No, seriously," she said. "He has a yakshi."

He continued to look at her, this time blankly.

"A yakshi. A beautiful spirit that seduces men. You can only resist her, remain pure, if you kill her. Otherwise, you are lost. He's lost. Regularly."

"I'm still not following you here," he said finally.

"He can't keep away from her. Find her, and you'll find him."

"And you know where she is?"

"No." She noticed him staring at her balefully. "But I bet we could track her down. She's pretty noticeable."

"If it's so easy to find her, and get Blackheath, how come no one's done it yet?"

She shrugged. "You gotta be in the know. You gotta know who to ask. And how to ask. Souls got no chance."

His cool, calculating Seeker gaze began to warm, and he smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Alex sat beside the Soul on the bed, his arm around her shoulders. Blackheath did not like Alex's arm around Dorsey. But this wasn't Dorsey. He grappled with the paradox and came up with nothing. Of course, he heard Yanni say, that is the nature of paradox.

But it was true she found Alex comforting. And Blackheath couldn't leave her, and she couldn't work if she was too afraid, which she was, if she were alone with him. As she should be. She was a Soul. And they needed her to work f they were to get Dorsey back.

So they were stuck.

Into the mess, lurking beneath the calm that Alex wore for the benefit if the Soul, for the benefit of Dorsey, Blackheath could see the deep bitterness that he had betrayed Alex's trust. Alex could not know he had prevented a wider calamity, that he had opted for an approach that would kill only the guilty ones. The Souls. And particularly the Souls in charge of keeping the humans at heel. He would know only that Blackheath had agreed to work a cease fire with one side of his face, and worked to destroy it on the other. Blackheath had had no choice. But that didn't make Alex's gaze any less unpleasant.

For the moment though, he sensed that Alex would ignore this, so that they could get Dorsey back. They had to get her back. Only…

"You're not to go near her memories," Blackheath warned, wishing like all hell they could just deimplant her and get Dorsey straight back. But the Soul was apparently integral to getting her back. She had to stay. He could only try to minimize the damage. What was worse, was that Dorsey knew too much. Which was usually fine, because Blackheath could trust Dorsey. He'd be dead a hundred times over if he couldn't. But he couldn't trust this Soul. So if this Soul knew these things, she would have to die. Unfortunate, perhaps, because she was apparently trying to help them, but true.

The Soul looked at him sadly. She had not tried to go near the memories yet, but he triggered them unavoidably, and she couldn't help but love him. This body's attraction was too powerful to allow any other response, and coupled with the memories… it was very frustrating that he should hate her. And it confused her to be afraid of someone she loved. But there were bruises on her shoulder still from where he had grabbed her. She fingered them unhappily, her hand beneath Alex's arm. She liked Alex. That part was uncomplicated. He would not hurt her.

"It makes it a bit hard to search for her then, doesn't it?" Alex was saying, and Blackheath frowned.

"She won't be found in her memories," the Soul said softly, not wanting to provoke Blackheath, "She doesn't exist there. They are only… memories." She smiled a little, thinking of them, and Blackheath scowled and looked away.

"Where is she then," Alex asked gently. She wasn't sure how to explain. English was not set up for these concepts.

"Deeper," she said eventually, and shivered to see the fury in Blackheath's eyes. He did not like this idea either. He wanted her as close to out as possible. Deeper was not in that direction. She wanted desperately to please him. "But there is another way."

Blackheath glanced at her, which was frightening, but also lovely. This was confusing, and she stopped.

"Another way," Alex repeatedly patiently.

"Instead of going and getting her, we lure her to come to us. I stay here. At the top of her mind."

"Lure her," Alex said. "How."

"Tempt her. Give her things she can't refuse. What does she like?"

"You don't know?" Alex half turned, staring at her leg.

"I haven't accessed her memories…" the Soul said, "…oh."

"She likes Blackheath," Alex said.

"A lot," the Soul whispered, nodding.

"So, we give her Blackheath," Alex said, but it was a question. One that Blackheath was not answering. Eventually Blackheath began to shake his head. She flinched as he stood up, but he didn't even notice. Alex sighed and followed him out.

***

"You want me to touch her," Blackheath muttered, arms folded tight and bouncing his spine on the wall, "I want to kill her. I can't stand it."

"You have to," Alex said, trying hard to sound reasonable. "It's different to what happened with you. She'll go away as soon as Dorsey comes back. That's her job. The more you help the quicker that can happen. Then she's out, Dorsey's back, everything's back to normal."

"She'll know everything. She already knows too much. I have to kill her."

"No." Alex was very firm on this. "She doesn't know anything. Except that she loves you, and she's afraid of you. She didn't know what she liked. You should see her at dinner. She put the zucchinis in her mouth and had to spit them out. She was _surprised_ she didn't like them. _She didn't know_."

"She can't love me," Blackheath muttered, having really only heard that far. Alex sighed internally, thinking of Falling Smoke and Flame.

"She doesn't really have a choice," he muttered.

"So what do you want me to do?" Blackheath said finally.

"I don't know. Take it slow. What does Dorsey likes to do."

Blackheath became thoughtful. _Everything_.

"Remember this is a Soul we're talking about here," Alex warned.

"I think it'll be more I question of what I _can_ do," he muttered eventually, "I just don't think I _could_ kiss her."

"Alright... What about starting with touching your hand."

He nodded eventually, tension still flaring along his jaw.

"Alright," Alex said. "No time like the present?"

Blackheath looked like he was being led to slaughter.

"Ok. We're going to try this luring thing," Alex said as they reentered the room.

"Like in the book," the Soul said, having thought it over, "The prince wakes the princess with his kiss."

"Something like that," Alex mumbled seeing Blackheath recoil in revulsion. Blackheath sat himself firmly in the visitor's chair furthest from the bed and gripped the arm rests. Alex gave him a look that said _unhelpful. _Blackheath raised his eyebrows a fraction in response, unmoving.

"So. Maybe if you go over to Blackheath there and, and try holding his hand."

"Ok." The Soul got up and walked over to him. It was amazing to see how little she resembled Dorsey, even in this small action. Her walk was quiet, tentative, somehow, _polite_. It was nothing like Dorsey's. Blackheath drew back as she got closer, but stayed put.

But she bypassed his hand and drew her fingers along the muscles in his forearm. He froze, but managed to let her. She knew he liked her shoulders, and let the hospital gown fall off one, almost thoughtlessly. It worked like a charm; he was entranced. She slid her fingers along the muscles in his shoulders, and then his hands had grabbed her wrists, vice tight.

"Blackheath, you're hurting her."

Finally he let go, looking away. He managed to hide the trembling.

"It didn't work," Alex muttered, pulling the Soul carefully away from him and massaging her wrists.

"He didn't try," the Soul said forlornly, not even trying to stop the tears, "he didn't even try."


	4. Chapter 4

Jai opened the door unthinkingly in reply to the knock. Jackson's work knew she was staying here, so she didn't think she had any reason to hide. But a Soul stood in the doorway, looking at her like she'd been slapped. It didn't bode well.

"Jai Brown," she said bravely, putting out her hand, wishing she hadn't worn quite such a tight tank top today. Or maybe a bra.

"Hungry Flame," the Soul said, shaking it after a second, "I was after Jackson but…" she half turned to go.

"He's just gone to the shops. He'll be back in a second. Come in."

Jackson liked to keep his work and play strictly separate, but Jai knew who Hungry Flame was. She didn't think Jackson would be too pleased if Hungry Flame said she'd been impolite.

"Coffee?"

And that's how Jackson found them a few minutes later, sitting at the kitchen table in silence, sipping at their cups to fill it. He looked from one to the other and felt this was not good, the two of them together. He waited outside til Flame came to him, and shut the front door behind her. This way he was more comfortable.

"Sorry, I should've called first," Flame muttered, sitting on the steps to the tiny garden.

"What is it?" he asked shortly, still ridding his mind of the concept of his work and play together.

"Alex has gone into the Soul-free zone," Flame said steadily.

"Why?"

She sighed and looked away. After a minute she shook her head, and stood up to go, but he caught her arm.

"Sorry. Alright, just talk," he said.

"He went in a while ago. There's no contact of course, and…"

"You're worried about him." Worried for his life, or worried he wouldn't come back this time, Jackson wondered.

"You haven't heard anything?" she asked, anxiety making her eyes shine.

"Everything's been very quiet after the last bunch of arrests."

"Right. Ok." She looked away again, her shoulders despairing.

"Look, I'm going to go back in there. I could keep an eye out for him."

"An ear out? An ear out would be good."

"You don't want me to look for him?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I'd send Bhask in, but…"

"How's he doing?"

"Well as can be expected I suppose. No, he's alright."

"You still going to try and tell me Alex isn't involved in anything?"

She grimaced, staring at her hands, and eventually spoke. "He was trying to set up a ceasefire."

_A perfect cover story_, Jackson thought. Alex could get away with talking to any Zone warlord on that pretext. With a Soul jury anyway.

"Guess that's pretty much blown out of the water then," he muttered, "Sorry."

"Actually, with Sanderson's group gone, there's a good chance it could go ahead," she glanced at him and he could see the hope in her eyes, "They were the sticklers."

"You seem to know a lot about this."

She ignored him. "I think people are getting sick of the constant violence too. It's a good time to try for a ceasefire, just on that basis."

"How does this help me find Alex?"

"You're a Seeker."

"Really."

"Shut up. If I tell you where he's gone, it could endanger his contacts."

"Only if his contacts are criminals."

"You see my problem then."

"So, you are going to protect criminals, Soul-killers, so as not to endanger a non-existent ceasefire, when Alex's life could be at stake."

She stared fiercely at her hands.

"This doesn't sound like you, Flame."

"Just forget it." Her voice was husky as she walked away.

"Wait." He was never good with tears, especially in a woman. "If I find him, what do you want me to do."

"Ah… just tell him… remind him he made a promise."


	5. Chapter 5

Days passed without a resolution of the impasse.

"How did Flame find you?" Blackheath gripped the window sill, staring at the ground below as if it were personally responsible for this situation.

"She knew me," Alex replied, sitting by the opposite wall, "She knew where to look."

"Flame knows Dorsey better than anyone, practically. Why can't Flame do this? Why didn't you bring her?"

Alex's voice was hard. "She is not coming. It's not an option. Flame is never getting out of that body again, if I have anything to do with it. I'm not even supposed to be here." His voice had turned muffled, and Blackheath saw he had his head in his hands.

"You didn't even tell her, did you?" Blackheath said, "she doesn't know. You are going to be in _so_ much trouble when she finds out."

Alex didn't look up.

"Go get her," Blackheath said, staring at him hard, "If she knew what was going on, she would come."

"Of course she would, but you are _not _going to do that to her. She doesn't get a choice here."

Blackheath grounded his teeth in silence. "So its fine for you, but Dorsey has to just… die?"

"Dorsey is not going to die," Alex said softly. "You can do this."

He had to do this.

But as soon as they entered the hospital room again, and he saw those repulsive silver eyes in the face he loved so much, sitting on the edge of the bed, he turned on his heel. Alex blocked him instantly.

"I can't do this," Blackheath muttered, "There must be some other way."

"She goes deep then."

"No."

"Well then…"

"_I can't do it_. She's a frikkin Soul."

"You kissed Flame."

"What! You kissed Flame?" The Soul cried, wounded.

Blackheath glared at him.

_Just trying to help, _Alex's expression said.

_You are soo helpful, _Blackheath's face replied.

The expression on the Soul's face was like she listening to a faint, far away song.

"Did you get something?" Alex asked.

"Maybe…" she frowned in concentration, her focus entirely internal.

Blackheath was by her side in an instant.

"Dorsey?" he whispered. His hand stroked the side of her face thoughtlessly.

"Yes," the Soul whispered, still lost in concentration, "Keep going."

Blackheath closed his eyes, blocking out the hated sight, and forced himself to concentrate on touch. He let his hand slide down her neck and onto her shoulder, pushing the gown off it so he could cup the whole joint in his trembling fingers. Her hands were sliding up his neck and into his hair, pressing his face closer until their lips touched. She tried to press forward, but he leant back, resisting, struggling internally. Finally he let her kiss him, and even began to respond, and her legs climbed his thighs and he didn't stop them.

"Uh, guys?" Alex said, somewhat uncomfortably, "I'm still here."

"Alex, go away," the Soul whispered languorously between kisses, and Alex had to laugh.

"_Mine_." It was Dorsey's voice, unmistakable, and Blackheath jerked away from her guiltily.

"Oh!" the Soul cried out in disappointment, "She's gone."


	6. Chapter 6

Jai gazed at the disappearing Heal scars, tracing where the bomb blast had tried to rip Jackson apart. They were only on his back and legs, nothing on his front. Had he been facing the other way? Running away? Had he hit the ground before it went off? Was she the reason that he had got so close? Had she sent him to his death? She had never asked him, and she never would. It was too intertwined with Maddy, guilt, sorrow, and death. Things she didn't want to remember, but that were constantly being pressed on her here in the Zone.

She didn't want to remember who she was here, who she had been, who she had been forced to be. She wanted to move on, make a clean break. She didn't want to be a criminal anymore. Jackson could never be with a criminal, and she wanted more than anything to stay with him. He slept so deeply, as if her turmoil couldn't touch him.

She turned on her back to stare at the stars, always so much clearer out here where electricity was fitful and precious. She would do this one thing for him, find Blackheath, and then they would never have to return. Just one last job, acting one last part. One last betrayal. Then the future was clear.

She thought of it like a swap. Her life for his. He was undoubtedly the guiltier party. The sacrifice would be well accepted, Jackson would overlook anything he found out about her for this. Blackheath would die, but she would be free. It was not a task she felt any pleasure doing, and like so many unpleasant tasks in her life before, she just wanted to get it over with.

***

The next day she got her break. The man at the bar was Chet Diaz, despite the attempt at disguise. He was also on Jackson's wanted list, but Jai did not want to mess with Chet. She had seen firsthand what happened to people that messed with Chet. Then there was Maddy, of course, but she didn't think Chet had blown her up. It was not Chet's style to waste precious explosives blowing things up so far away from any Souls.

She sat beside him, knowing he would recognize her, and waited for him to finish his beer. He gave the signal as he left, and when she finished her beer, she met him out the back.

"You get away too, huh?" he muttered, his eyes flicking constantly.

She nodded.

"Well don't look at me. You're on your own, kid." But his eyes were flicking more and more to her, and she knew he was considering taking her. She stiffened, suppressing the sickened feeling. She did not want this. He'd taken her before, and she had no desire to go anywhere near him again.

"Is it true?" she asked, frowning into the distance as he grabbed her arm and rubbed his thumb into her muscle, hard, like cleaning a spot on an apple, "did Blackheath rat us out?"

Chet spat. It was obviously news to him, but he covered well. "Wouldn't put it past him."

"I want him dead."

"He'd kill you quicker than you could look at him."

"I don't care."

His hand dropped from her body. He wasn't interested in stiff little bitches that didn't care. He liked ones that cared a lot, one way or the other.

"What are you planning on doing about it?" he asked uninterestedly.

"Find that bitch of his."

"Dorsey."

"Yeah. He won't stay away from her for long."

"You'd be better off killing her, I reckon. Kick him where it hurts."

She looked thoughtful, like she was liking his idea. "She'd be a push over."

"She's no puppy, but you'd have a chance. Especially now. They say she's at the new Clinic. Caught up in her lover's own mischief." He smiled at the justice of it. Blackheath hadn't used the explosive they'd sent. He claimed they'd been sabotaged. Chet loved that he'd been bitten when trying to go it alone. Served him right. Of course, if the explosive had worked, neither him nor his bitch would have lived to tell the tale, but Chet would take what he could get.

He decided he'd take Jai after all. Stupid cow was just about begging for a cowboy: might as well be him. But she was gone. Randy little bitch really had it in for that Blackheath, Chet thought, and decided he would let her take care of it. He had enough on his plate as it was.

***

Jackson had parked by the side of the Healing Centre, avoiding any windows. Jai sat back in the car breathless with adrenaline after the forcedly casual walk from the building.

"He's there. 3rd room on the right, 2nd floor. Ask for Dorsey Blackheath if you get lost."

"Dorsey!" Jackson exclaimed. Now Flame's reticence was starting to make sense. _Dorsey_. What a bloody waste.

He marched into the Healing Centre, shabbier somehow than the ones in the city, but shiningly clean compared to the rest of the Zone buildings. He found the room easily and stared at her. Dorsey. And Blackheath. And _Alex_. Alex was the only one that seemed to know what his coming meant, and stood up carefully.

"Who's this?" Blackheath asked, his hand curled around something small. Jackson guessed a knife.

"Jackson," Dorsey said, sounding surprised, and he realized it was not Dorsey; it was a Soul. What was Blackheath doing sitting passively by while his girl got implanted? He tossed the thought away. Irrelevant.

"What are you doing here, Jackson?" Alex asked cautiously, and Jackson realized he was moving in front of Blackheath, protecting him.

"Sit down and shut up, Alex," Jackson muttered, and watched Blackheath closely as he edged closer to the Soul. Blackheath didn't like it. So she was still useful.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Jackson said to her, smiling, "How're you doing?"

"'I'm fine," the Soul said, repaying his politeness as her genes dictated, but nervous as to why Alex and Blackheath were sitting so still.

"Can you come for a little walk with me for a moment?" Jackson asked, and only the others could see the gun he held.

"Sure," she said, hopping off the bed, eager to please. He didn't want to scare her, if he could help it, but Blackheath needed to know he was serious. Blackheath got the message and left his knife on the chair as he followed quietly. Jackson waited, and Blackheath collected and disposed of another three onto the bed.

"Where are we going?" the Soul asked, as they descended the stairs.

"How about a cup of coffee. There's a nice little place just downstairs. Have these guys taken you there yet?"

"No."

"Oh, that's mean of them. You'll love it."

"You're Flame's partner aren't you?" she said after a minute, and Jackson was surprised that she sounded so unsure. Surely she had Dorsey's memories?

"Yeah, that's right." He opened the door for her and they all walked outside.

"What are you doing here then? Is Flame ok?"

He saw Alex look up quickly. _Great bloody husband you are_, Jackson thought, _don't even think to ask yourself_.

"Flame's fine," he said, "Oh. She wanted me to remind you, Alex, that you made a promise." He could feel Alex's glare burning the back of his neck, but didn't react.

They drew up to the car. Jackson shoved Blackheath onto the bonnet and cuffed him, Jai staring at his furious eyes from inches away through the windscreen.

"What are you doing?" the Soul asked, horrified.

"Arresting him."

"For what??"

He glanced at her in disbelief then shoved Blackheath into the backseat and cuffed him to it tightly.

"No!" she said, pulling gently but insistently on his arm, but Alex pulled her back and held her in his.

"It's alright," Blackheath told her, having lost his persecuted look and sounding calm, "Go back inside."

But they stood on the footpath, Dorsey straining against Alex, staring at them til he drove out of sight.

***

Jackson glanced at him in the rear vision mirror every half hour or so, and couldn't quite work out why Blackheath still seemed defiant. Confidently defiant, even. Either he didn't fear death, or… he was missing something. He didn't like that feeling. Blackheath was wanted for any number of crimes. All he needed was to be caught, and he was gone. So he was caught. Why wasn't he acting gone?

He glanced at Jai, sleeping on in the front seat. Obviously she had no worries about the situation. Rat bag. Blackheath's eyes watched him, almost amused. Jackson swore he would not be the first one to break.

"Figured it out yet?" Blackheath asked finally.

"What."

"Why you're not going to turn me in."

"You're already turned in. Forget about it."

But Blackheath only smiled out the window. It was infuriating.

"She's real sweet, isn't she?" he said, and Jackson's eyes snapped at him, knowing instantly he meant Jai.

"Leave her out of this."

"Oh I don't think so."

"She's got nothing to do with this."

"She's got everything to do with this."

Jackson pulled over and waited, hands crushing the steering wheel. Blackheath leaned forward, making sure he got every word.

"That's Jai Brown. I know all about her. You turn me in, I turn her in. That's fair isn't it?"

Jackson had hauled Blackheath out of the car and hit him before he had even thought about it.

"You're not going to say a word," Jackson hissed.

"You can't bully me, _Seeker_," Blackheath said, spitting blood. "Break my jaw and I can write. Break my hands and they'll implant me. Then they'll see firsthand what she got up to. Nothing like an implanted Soul witness."

Jackson hit him again and walked away, trying to think while Blackheath got up from his knees awkwardly, his hands still tied behind his back.

It was tempting to kill him. It would sort the problem. But Jackson was actually averse to killing people illegally. He liked there to be some distinction between him and the criminals, and due process was one of them. But Blackheath could not be allowed to do what he threatened. So kill him or let him go.

Then Jai got out of the car, sleep still slowing her movements.

"Jackson? What's going on?" she looked between Jackson; furious, hands still bunched into fists, and Blackheath; cuffed and bleeding. "What are you doing?"

He hated the fear in her voice. He couldn't kill him in front of her. He Iiked that she looked up to him. _Fuck_.

"Letting the fucker go," he said, teeth clenched, spinning Blackheath around and pulling the handcuffs off him roughly. Blackheath had socked him before he'd even relocked the cuffs. He was incredibly fast. But Jai was suddenly standing between them.

"He let you go," she was saying, real low and quiet, "So you're quits. So go."


	7. Chapter 7

Blackheath's first impulse had been to satisfy his itching fist and make it just that little bit more even, but he knew a second chance when he saw one, and took it. Dorsey might be awake by now.

Alex was very surprised to see him. "What happened to Jackson! You didn't…"

Blackheath grinned at Alex's alarmed expression, punching his arm.

"You always think the worst. He's fine. He ever give you any trouble, just let me know. He owes me one."

"He owes you one? Well, I guess at least he got Dorsey back."

"What!"

"They're in surgery now. I spose he taught us a new Healer trick: if tempting them with what they want won't bring them to the surface, try taking it away. That sure did it. That poor Soul will be in rehab for months."

"Dorsey wasn't pleased huh?"

"I'm taking it not. Soul said she'd never heard such language in all her life."

Blackheath grinned wider. "You're going to get the shit kicked out of you for letting them take me."

Alex lookec at him with eyebrows raised. "He would have shot any of us if we resisted arrest. Jackson likes to interpret the law to suit himself."

Blackheath grinned. "I don't think Dorsey will let you off the hook that easy."

***

Dorsey walked herself back from surgery, Healers trailing in her wake, grabbed Blackheath and kissed him so hard he sat on the bed.

"Where the hell have you been?" she demanded, while Alex placated the Healers and herded them out the door.

"Just went for a little car ride. Only I had to walk back. Jackson and I had a disagreement."

"I can see that," she said, touching the bruises on his face, "I hope you didn't let him do _all_ the talking."

"I've still got a few things I'd like to say to him. But I knew you wouldn't want me out chatting all night."

He kissed her back then extricated himself from her grip and made for the door. Well, he would have if she hadn't immediately caught his arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, frowning and swapping hands and as he peeled the other off his arm.

"I've got a Soul to kill," he muttered, losing patience and grabbing both her wrists whilst getting caught by her legs.

"Ah, Blackheath…" Alex cautioned. But Dorsey was right on it.

"Oh no you don't! Don't you think you've done enough of that for a while? And you're the one that kissed her! You're the one that should be shot."

"Well, actually, the way I saw it," Alex began.

"I'm not speaking to you, Alex!" Dorsey snapped disdainfully.

"She knows too much-" Blackheath insisted.

"You think I'd let her anywhere near my memories! What do you think I am? What the hell is this?" she demanded, finding the bruises on her shoulder.

"Ahh, sorry-" Blackheath went to touch them sadly, but got his hand slapped away.

"You're damn right you are! I can't even be in a coma for two seconds and look what you get up to!"

"It's not what you think."

"I caught you sucking face with that whore. Jesus, first Giulia, now a _Soul_! What's got into you! What!"

This last was volleyed at Alex, who couldn't contain his laughter.

"So good to have you back, Dorse," he said, hugging her shoulders.

"I'm still not speaking to you," she said smiling just a little, and hugging him back.


	8. Epilogue

**_Epilogue_**

"What's this," Jai asked.

"A plane ticket," Jackson replied, trying to take the precious things back from her. They were a skillful piece of deception and he didn't like his chances of lucking in a second time. "You are coming with me. It's not safe for you here."

"Annalise Moore?" she said, turning her back to him to keep the out of his reach, "Who the hell is that?"

"Didn't want to leave a paper trail. It's just temporary."

"Do I even _look_ like an Annalise to you? What's wrong with Jai Brown?"

"Jai Brown will definitely not do," he gave up grabbing for the print out and held her instead. Equally precious. "What about Nut Jackson?" he said softly into her neck.

She smiled and he couldn't resist kissing her cheek.

"You're the nut," she said softly, hitting his head with the plane tickets.


End file.
